Robert Ludlum

The Janson Directive

Orion Books, 2002.

To him, it had always felt like a refuge, this vast campus of trees and grass, playing fields and tennis courts. The boating lake stretched like an amoeba, narrowing to a stream that, edged by flower beds, ran under York Bridge in the southern part of the park. And in the inner circle was Queen Mary's Garden, filled with exotic flora and rare fowl, discreetly penned: a sanctuary for wild birds and lonely, fragile people

Today, however, Regent's Park has become a killing field: a team of concealed snipers is under orders to assassinate former intelligence operative Paul Janson. The author, 'the best selling thriller writer of all time' (blurb), has clearly done his homework and makes full use of all the park's features - bandstand, tennis courts, mosque etc. - as Janson dodges about to evade the killers.

He ran along the banks of the boating lake and past an elderly woman who was throwing bread crumbs to ravenous pigeons. An enormous flock of the birds took flight as he pounded through their midst, like an exploding cloud of feathers. One of them, batting its wings just a few yards ahead, suddenly dropped like a stone, landing near his feet. The smudge of red on the pigeon's breast told him that it had caught a stray bullet intended for him